


Armarium

by xylarias



Category: Marvel
Genre: ADD/ADHD Tony Stark, Alcohol, Alcoholic Tony Stark, Awesome Pepper Potts, Baking, Banter, Bisexual Steve Rogers, Bisexual Tony Stark, Champagne, Christmas, Christmas Cookies, Christmas Party, Cookies, Cuddling & Snuggling, Domestic Fluff, Drunken Flirting, Drunken Kissing, Drunkenness, Eggnog, Established Relationship, Happy Hogan is a Good Bro, Height Differences, Implied/Referenced Sex, James "Rhodey" Rhodes & Tony Stark Friendship, Living Together, M/M, Married Couple, Married Life, Mild Sexual Content, Pepper Potts & Tony Stark Friendship, Sexual Humor, Sleepy Cuddles, Suits, Tony Stark Has Issues, Tony Stark Loves Steve Rogers, Tony Stark Needs Sleep, Tony Stark Needs a Hug, Touch-Starved, Wine, steve rogers loves tony stark
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-03-18
Updated: 2021-03-18
Packaged: 2021-03-27 10:41:44
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,604
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/30121533
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/xylarias/pseuds/xylarias
Summary: I started writing this last year around Christmas but I never actually finished it so,,, here it is.in retrospect I probably should've posted this later this year during Christmas but I've been writing this nonstop for days so I didn't want to wait hahahalso I don't really know Latin so I used a translator but the title means 'closet'oh and if you see words between these ** please mention they're supposed to be in italics
Relationships: Steve Rogers/Tony Stark
Kudos: 17





	Armarium

**Author's Note:**

> I started writing this last year around Christmas but I never actually finished it so,,, here it is.
> 
> in retrospect I probably should've posted this later this year during Christmas but I've been writing this nonstop for days so I didn't want to wait hahah
> 
> also I don't really know Latin so I used a translator but the title means 'closet'  
> oh and if you see words between these ** please mention they're supposed to be in italics

The first thing Tony notices when he wakes up is a sweet, rich smell. He gets up, groaning. He didn't sleep as well as he'd hoped – not that he ever does. Tony grabs a shirt from the floor, pulling it over his head. He puts on sweatpants – he isn't going anywhere today. Usually he prefers jeans, since they're neater and more stylish than baggy, soft pants, but right now he just wants to feel comfortable. Tony flexes his arms as he walks out of the bedroom. He makes his way into the kitchen. "Hey," he says to his husband, whose back is turned in his direction.

The blond standing in front of the stove turns around, smiling at Tony. "Morning," he replies.

"What are you doing?" Tony asks, attempting to see what Steve's baking – if that's what he's doing – over the blond's shoulder, but he's shorter than Steve. Damn him and his tallness.

Steve shrugs. "Nothing," he says.

Tony rolls his eyes. "Jerk," he mutters.

"What was that?" Steve asks, raising an eyebrow.

"Nothing," Tony mimicks.

"Language, Stark," Steve says. 

"I'm gonna get a coffee, _Rogers_ ," Tony states, moving toward the coffee machine, but Steve stops him. 

"I already made you some," he says, handing Tony a steamy cup of black coffee. Tony hums gratefully, leaning against the kitchen counter as he waits for the coffee to cool down. "So," Steve says suddenly, "tomorrow is Christmas Eve." Tony gives Steve an _uh-huh_ to show that he's acknowledged his words. "You planning a big party or something?" 

Fuck. Tony hadn't thought of that, much less planned it out. He knits his eyebrows. "Uh," he says.

"Is that a yes or a no?" Steve enquires.

"I don't know," Tony says.

Steve looks at him amusedly, quirking an eyebrow. "You didn't forget, did you?" Tony scoffs.

"'Course I didn't." He shakes his head. "That's not something I'd just _forget_ ," he says unconvincingly. "I mean, Christmas is a great time of joy and all." Tony spreads his hand as if forming a rainbow, offering Steve a dry, sarcastic smile. Steve laughs, taking a step forward and kissing the top of Tony's head. "Mm," Tony says, closing his eyes. "I forgot," he admits. Steve grins to himself.

"What are you gonna do, then?" Steve asks him, tilting his head downward in order to speak straight to Tony. Tony looks up at him, shrugging.

"Hmm," Tony ponders. "I dunno." He sets his coffee on the table, wrapping his arms around Steve's waist. "I was thinking that maybe, well, maybe this year it could be just you and me?" Tony pouts. "What d'you think?" he asks.

Steve laughs, shaking his head. He groans. "You're impossible," he says. Tony grins.

"That a yes?" Tony insists, smirking at his husband. "Think about it," he continues, "just you and me, some eggnog, candles, mistletoe..." Steve sighs, knowing exactly where this is going. "And who knows, maybe even a surprise present?" Tony says innocently, mischief twinkling in his eyes.

"You'd be willing to lose your reputation as the genius billionaire playboy philanthropist?" Steve questions him, raising an eyebrow.

Tony exhales sharply. "It's just _one_ event, Steve," he says. "No one's gonna notice I'm not there."

Steve frowns. "One _Christmas_ event," he corrects. He narrows his eyes skeptically. "You think people aren't going to notice that _Tony Stark_ isn't present?" Tony opens his mouth to protest, then closes it again. Steve huffs, amused. "You don't even believe that yourself, do you?" 

Tony glowers at him. "Buzzkill," he mutters, his hands retreating from the small of Steve's back to his own sides. He puts them on the counter, lifting himself on it. 

Steve takes a small step forward. Steve tsks. "Come on. You know I'm right." 

Tony clicks his tongue. "Yeah, yeah," he admits. "Barely." He takes a deep breath, inhaling the scent of coffee. "But Steve, darling, dearest, love of my life, how can you accuse me of being a playboy when I'm married–" he wiggles the fingers of his left hand, showing off his ring – "to you?"

Steve laughs, his ears turning pink. Not even superpowers can save him from Tony Stark's cheesy pet names. "It's not what _I_ think about you. It's what the world thinks about you." Tony considers this. It might be, he deduces, since he's never really explicitly said otherwise. It makes him sort of disappointed, people thinking that he's a playboy even though he's married. Like he'd cheat on Steve.

"I suppose," Tony says. "You do know I deeply care about you, don't you?" Steve snickers.

"You know you can say 'I love you', right?" Steve says, shaking his head. Tony shrugs, as if to say _Well, who knows?_. "Oh, yeah, I forgot," Steve says, "denial and inability to admit that you're dealing with–" he gasps – " _feelings_. Right."

Tony scoffs. "I hate you." Steve grins at him. 

"Sure you do." Steve brushes a strand of hair behind Tony's ear, cupping his cheek. Steve leans in, capturing Tony's lips in a kiss. Tony exhales but gives in, running his tongue over Steve's lower lip. Steve realizes his mistake too late. 

Tony frowns, pulling away. "You–" his eyes widen in shock – "you made gingerbread cookies? Without telling me?" he asks, looking beyond offended. 

Steve winces. "Busted," he says, shrugging apologetically. "Then again, you _were_ asleep." Tony glares at him.

"That's not an excuse."

"It's enough of an excuse, though, isn't it?"

Tony shakes his head. "No." 

Steve laughs. "Come on, Tones. Just this once?" Tony shakes his head, knitting his eyebrows. He glowers at Steve. "You're so tiny," says Steve, his lips curling into a smile.

"Shut up."

Steve hums. "Never."

"God, I hate you."

Steve clicks his tongue. "Wow. You just woke up and that's the second time I've heard that today." He shakes his head. "Not cool."

" _You're_ not cool," Tony remarks, returning to his coffee with a glare at Steve. "Idiot." Steve smiles victoriously, moving to take a gingerbread cookie from the tray. Tony almost spills his coffee in his haste to stop his husband. "Oh _no_ you don't!" he says, snatching the cookie from Steve's hand. "That one?" Tony takes a bite of the cookie. "For me." 

Steve rolls his eyes. " _I_ baked them."

Tony couldn't argue with that, but he sure as hell wasn't going to let Steve win. "And _I_ ," he says, stuffing another cookie into his mouth, "am eating them."

Steve huffs. "Not fair," he says. 

Tony grins. "Them's the rules."

"Which _you_ made up."

"You make the cookies, I make the rules. Right?"

Steve frowns, then slowly shakes his head. "That's... not how it works."

Tony smiles. "It is now!" he states, gathering a pile of gingerbread cookies on a plate and settling on the sofa. "C'mon, Rogers. Stop being grumpy and get your ass over here." Steve sighs, untying his apron. Tony glanced at the blond. "Aw, you're wearing clothes underneath? That's a shame." 

Despite himself, Steve lets out a laugh. "Some other time," he says, "maybe when you're not being a jerk."

Tony raises his eyebrows. "Wow," he says. "Rude." 

Steve sits on the sofa, beside Tony. He gently kicks Tony's foot with his own, wincing as he does. "Jesus, Tony," he says, "your feet are _cold_."

Tony shrugs. "Comes of having a cold boyfriend, I suppose." 

Steve groans. "Okay, okay," he says, picking up a blanket from the pile of them. "Come here." 

Tony stares at him, conflicted. He narrows his eyes. "This doesn't make me forgive you, you know." Steve just laughs, allowing Tony to lean on him and make himself comfortable. Steve wraps an arm around the brunet. He kisses the top of his head. Tony hums happily, snuggling Steve, his head resting on Steve's lap. He gazes up at Steve, and Steve starts playing with Tony's hair. Tony would never admit it, but he loves it when Steve does that. 

"You sure about that?"

Tony nods. "Mm-hm." He's on the verge of falling asleep. Steve snatches a cookie from Tony's abandoned plate. Tony glances at his hand, then glares at him. "Oh, fuck you."

Steve just grins, planting a kiss on Tony's forehead. Tony closes his eyes, and before too long, he's snoring quietly on Steve's laps. 

Steve considers this a victory.

* * *

"Hey," says Steve. "Tony," he says, waking him up. 

Tony blinks the sleep from his eyes, yawning tiredly. "Hm?" he hums in askance. 

Steve hangs the phone in front of Tony's face. "It's Pepper," he says. 

Tony snatches the phone from Steve's hand, setting it between his shoulder and his ear. "Pepper?" 

" _You forgot._ "

Tony frowns. "Probably, but honestly, I have no idea what you're talking about."

" _The party. You forgot it._ "

Tony opens his mouth, then closes it, pursing his lips. "What makes you think that?"

" _Usually you begin making me review your ideas a week or two before the actual event,_ " says Pepper. " _And,_ " she adds, " _your husband might've texted me that you need serious help if you want to get this ready on time._ " 

Tony glares at Steve who is pretending not to notice. He's saying _you snitch_ , but Steve isn't hearing him. Tony grunts. "Don't–"

Tony can hear Pepper's amused smile from the other end. " _Me and Rhodey are coming over._ "

Tony's face scrunches up in exasperation. "No, no, no–"

" _We're coming over,_ " Pepper states, and her tone leaves no room for negotiation. " _See you later,_ " she says, then hangs up. Tony groans.

Steve clears his throat. "What'd she say?" he asks, feigning innocence.

"Oh, you're such an asshole," Tony grumbles. He sighs. "They're coming over." 

Steve smiles, a smile in the middle of a genuine one and a teasing one. "That's good, isn't it? You might actually be able to plan the party on time!" he says. Tony rolls his eyes.

"I get all the cookies, by the way." Tony fakes a smile. 

Steve snickers. "You always were a sore loser," he says matter-of-factly. 

Tony kicks him. "Go to hell."

Steve flashes a smile, then blinks, as if realizing something. "Oh, and don't do anything stupid when Pepper and Rhodey get here."

Tony huffs. "Well, I guess we won't be having sex tonight, then," he says.

Steve opens his mouth, then shuts it, pondering what to say. "Okay, that was a solid burn," he admits. "But," he starts, "you definitely don't deserve the cookies after behaving like this." Steve reaches for Tony's plate.

Tony gets up, jabbing a finger at Steve. "Oh, no you don't," he warns. 

"Or what?"

Tony furrows his eyebrows, then narrows his eyes. "Or I'll... I'll..." His voice falters. He can't come up with a good threat. 

Steve smiles, pulling Tony closer to himself. Tony resists. "Tiny," Steve whispers, kissing the top of his head. Tony harrumphs.

"I hate you, you know."

Steve winces. "Ooh," he says. "That's three times."

"I can make it four if you don't stop," Tony suggests, grinning up at Steve, his hands around the blond's waist.

Steve raises an eyebrow. "Uh-huh," he says, letting go of Tony. "Go have a shower and get dressed up. Rhodey and Pepper will be here soon." He pats him on the shoulder, smiling encouragingly. 

Tony scrunches his nose at him. "Normally," says Tony, "I'd invite you to shower with me, but it seems like you haven't been on your best behavior today." 

Steve smiles, shaking his head. "Come on." Tony smiles sarcastically, then disappears into the bathroom.

Steve waits, taking a few cookies from Tony's plate as he does. If he may say so himself, they turned out to be pretty good.

* * *

A knock sounds at the door, alerting Steve and Tony of Pepper and Rhodey's arrival. Steve opens the door, and hugs are traded. Pepper raises an eyebrow. "So, Tony, any big plans for tomorrow?" she asks, stifling a grin.

Tony's mouth twists. "I forgot," says Tony. "You can stop rubbing it in my face now. Jesus."

Pepper grins, shaking her head. Rhodey smiles from beside her. "We're just enjoying our moment of victory," states Rhodey, stifling a laugh. 

"I hate both of you," Tony says, turning his back on them to go and make everyone some coffee. 

"Well, he's cranky today," says Pepper. "How many times have you heard the phrase 'I hate you' since he woke up?" she asks, directing the question at Steve.

Steve licks his lips. "Three."

Rhodey arches his eyebrows. "Ouch."

"Yep," agrees Steve. "Take a seat," he says gesturing at the sofa. Rhodey and Pepper do, and Pepper sets a binder on the coffee table. Steve frowns. "What's in it?" he asks, peering over Pepper's shoulder. 

Pepper glances at him, opening the binder. "Just some rough sketches and ideas for tomorrow," she says. "I figured that Tony would need help."

Tony scoffs from the kitchen. "I would've managed on my own!" he shouts. "Help," he grumbles, grudgeful.

Steve smiles at Pepper. "Thank you," he says. "He really does." Pepper nods, then starts presenting the ideas she's written down. They're solid ones; nothing new or exceptional, but efficient nevertheless. 

"So, I was thinking that first Tony shows up with you, then presents whatever charity he's donated to this year–" in parentheses, she's put _LGBTQ+ youth and/or aid for the homeless?_ , unsure of what Tony's target of philanthropy was this Christmas – "and then maybe give a speech and spread the Christmas spirit, the usual," she says, raising an eyebrow at Steve. 

Tony has appeared behind them. He clicks his tongue. "I hate to be saying this, but that does sound good," he says, causing both Pepper and Steve to turn their heads to him. Rhodey had noticed Tony, but he'd been curious about how it would go down – also, he didn't want to interrupt. Pepper narrows her eyes at him, amused. Tony huffs. "Don't make me say it." Steve grins at him as Pepper tilts her head, persistent. Tony sighs. "Fine," he says. "Thank you, Pepper."

Pepper nods. "You're welcome, Tony." 

Tony glances at Steve, then Pepper. "Right," he says. "I think we can take it from–"

Rhodey shakes his head. "Nope, you can't. We didn't come here just to leave without having been served any alcohol," he argues, turning to look at Steve. "Do you have eggnog?"

Steve laughs, patting Tony on the back. "As a matter of fact," he says, "we do." Rhodey sips the last of his coffee as Steve goes to the fridge to fetch their eggnogs. Tony closes his eyes. "Cheer up, Tones," Steve calls from the kitchen. "We'll have all the time we need after the gala tomorrow," he says, and Tony can hear the grin in his voice.

Rhodey clears his throat. "We don't need to hear more of that," he says. Tony sits down, drinking the last of his cold coffee he'd forgotten to finish in the morning. He sighs. "You have a suit?" Rhodey asks Tony. 

"I have a lot of suits," Tony states.

Rhodey narrows his eyes, skeptical. "One for tomorrow?"

Tony shrugs. "Sort of. Steve–"

Steve cuts him off. " _Steve_ isn't going to help you pick your suit."

Rhodey stifles an arrogant smile. Tony frowns. "Oh, come on," he groans. "Steve, darling–"

Steve shakes his head. "Nope," he says. 

Tony exhales, defeated. "Fine," he says. "Fine." He stands up, making a big deal of brushing past Steve. "You're going to be fucked," he whispers.

Steve laughs. "In the literal sense?" 

Tony growls quietly. "You wish."

Steve grins gleefully, glancing at Pepper whose lips are pursed and Rhodey, whose head is buried in his hands. "Sorry," he says, sounding anything but. 

Rhodey nods, then takes another sip of his eggnog. He turns to Pepper. "Maybe we _should_ leave them to it," he says. "Let's just leave the binder here and, uh, leave these two alone." 

Pepper blinks at Steve. "Do you think you can manage?" she asks. Steve can hear Tony rummaging in the closet room. He hesitates.

"Actually, do you want gingerbread cookies? I made some earlier," Steve suggests, gesturing toward the kitchen. 

Pepper nods. "Sure," Rhodey says, shrugging. 

Steve walks to the kitchen, then returns with a tray of undecorated cookies. "I didn't have time to decorate them before you arrived." 

"That's fine," Rhodey says, taking a bite of a gingerbread cookie. "It's good," he says, but not with his mouth full – his manners wouldn't allow that. "When did you make these?" 

"This morning."

Rhodey arches his eyebrows. "Oh, so it's fresh from the oven." Steve hums affirmatively just as Tony emerges from the closet room. He's holding up a white suit with a red dress shirt and a red napkin folded in the front pocket. "That's your suit?"

Tony frowns. "What, you don't like it?" He looks at the suit, then back at Rhodey. 

Rhodey shakes his head. "No, it's not that, I just think that white is a... bold choice." 

Tony shrugs. "I am bold. And aren't white and red the colors of Christmas?" he asks.

Rhodey can't argue with that. "True."

Steve tilts his head. "I think it looks good," he says.

"I would thank you, but you've been a pain in the ass today," Tony says, perfectly aware of what that sounds like.

Steve smirks mischievously. "Not yet."

Pepper packs a few cookies into a napkin, then stands up, stuffing them in her purse. "Okay, we're going. Rhodey?" Rhodey agrees enthusiastically, following Pepper. "We'll see you tomorrow," she says, waving. Rhodey bids them farewell, then closes the door after him.

Tony and Steve sit in complete silence for a minute, neither of them saying a word. Steve is the one to break the silence. "Congratulations, Tony. You just drove away our guests."

Tony purses his lips. "Well, _uninvited_ guests."

Steve exhales, disappointed. "I invited them."

"Eh," Tony says. "I didn't want them here," he says, shrugging. 

"You wouldn't have survived without them."

Tony opens his mouth, then closes it. "Uh," he says. He lets out an unintelligible sound. "I mean."

Steve approaches Tony, placing the suit on the sofa. "Moving on," he says, "what about me being fucked?"

Tony leans in, smiling like the bastard he is. "The real punishment," he says, close to Steve's ear, his warm breath tingling Steve's skin, "is you having to wait." 

Steve grins. "I know. I was kidding. Two can play at that game, you know."

Tony hisses as if he'd been burnt. "You're good." 

Steve smiles. "I know." He plants a kiss on the side of Tony's neck, inhaling. "You smell good."

Tony ruffles Steve's hair. "It's the shower," he says unnecessarily. 

Steve laughs breathily. "I figured."

Tony leans away from Steve, frowning at the blond. "I trust you already have a suit for tomorrow?"

"It's in my wardrobe. You know me."

"Why do you never use the closet room anyway? It's for you, too, you know, since we _both_ live here."

Steve shrugs. "I guess it's, I don't know, too big. A single wardrobe feels more like home, I suppose." Tony stares, absent-minded, his thoughts already wandering somewhere else. "You're feeling touch-starved again, aren't you?" Steve asks.

Tony spreads his arms slightly. "You know me. I always am."

Steve nods understandingly. "Come here," he says, taking a step forward and wrapping his arms around Tony, who returns the gesture. Tony's head is resting against Steve's chest, since he's not tall enough to rest it on Steve's shoulder. Steve buries his head against Tony's neck. "Hey," he says. "I love you."

Tony tightens the embrace. "I love you too, Cap."

Steve knows he shouldn't. He shouldn't ruin this. But he does. "I was almost expecting you to say 'I hate you'." 

Tony grumbles. "Shut up."

"Or that."

"It's almost like you're begging me to insult you. What are you, a masochist?" Tony asks. 

Steve snickers. "You'd know if I were."

Tony laughs. "True," he says. "You could still be a–" 

Steve shushes him. "I get the point, Tony."

"Sure you do, Steve."

Steve lets go. "Breakfast?" he asks. Tony opens his mouth to respond, possibly protest, but Steve cuts him off. "Yes, I know it's 1 PM, and no, gingerbread cookies don't hold enough nutrition to suffice for breakfast." Tony looks as though he's going to argue with that, but fortunately, he doesn't. Instead, he allows Steve to prepare eggs and toast for them. 

* * *

"You know, it's been a while since you made eggs and toast," Tony says, his mouth full as he chews on a piece of toast. His elbows are resting on the table – he has no manners. In fact, he'd be sitting on the counter if Steve hadn't told him not to.

Steve narrows his eyes at Tony, amused. "That bad?"

Tony blinks, then shakes his head. "You know that's not what I meant." Steve hums, cutting his fried egg in half. "It's good," Tony adds.

Steve swallows the food in his mouth before speaking. "Thanks."

Tony huffs. "Don't mention it." Tony bites on his tongue pensively. "I was thinking," he says, and if Steve was a dick, he'd say _That's a new one_ , "that we should probably go through the binder Pepper brought us."

Steve nods. "Yeah," he agrees. "Oh, and you should go to sleep earlier today."

Tony frowns. "What do you mean? I slept fine."

Steve gives him that look, the one Tony hates. The one that says _I know you're not taking care of yourself and I'm worried about you_. "Most of the time," begins Steve, "you end up waking me when you get out of the bedroom."

Tony curses under his breath. He hadn't known that. "Damn," he says so that Steve can hear him. "Sorry."

"No, it's– it's fine. I'm just worried about you." Steve takes Tony's hands in his own, staring him right in his eyes. "You have to take better care of yourself," he says, eyes full of concern. 

Tony sighs, bowing his head. "I know," he says. "I know." Steve kisses their intertwined hands. Tony smiles at Steve. "We should try putting on the suits."

Steve nods, then gets up, taking their empty plates and placing them in the sink. He washes his hands. Tony does the same. Steve fetches his own suit from his wardrobe and puts it on while Tony gets his from the sofa and dresses up in the closet room. When Tony emerges from the closet room, Steve is already waiting for him, wearing a pale blue suit and a white dress shirt with a blue tie. Tony stares. "You look handsome," he says, and he means it.

"You too."

"We're gonna look like a real power couple tomorrow, you know," Tony says, adjusting Steve's tie and straightening his suit. 

"Mmhmm," Steve replies. "We _are_ one."

Tony grins. "True." He pauses, then groans, realizing something. "I have to do work."

Steve frowns. "I thought you were on vacation."

Tony shrugs. "I am. But it's important." 

Steve crosses his arms. "Sure."

Tony grits his teeth. "It _is_."

Steve slides his hands down Tony's arms, gripping them gently. "You're more important than your work, Tony."

Tony's nose scrunches. He narrows his eyes. "I _am_ my work."

Steve's eyes widen. "Tony, _no_. You're so much more than that. You're the love of my life. Your work does not equal _you_."

All of Tony's popularity and money is based on his work, not _him_ , so he's having a hard time believing that. "It kind of does."

Steve shakes his head. "It doesn't," he insists. "Look," he says, "didn't I say that you've got to take care of yourself?" Tony stays quiet. "You aren't your work, Tony."

Tony swallows. "I think I need another hug."

"Okay," whispers Steve, embracing Tony. "It's okay," he assures him. That one's a lie, but Tony loves Steve too much to note it aloud. Also, he doesn't want the hug to end. Tony sighs, eyes closed, head against Steve's chest. He can hear his heartbeat. It's calm. Tony loves listening to it. It's like a reminder that he's still alive, still _here_. A reminder that he has a life – and Steve in it. "No work?" says Steve, but it comes out as a statement rather than a question.

"Okay," agrees Tony. "No work."

* * *

Tony wakes up beside Steve, unclothed. He stares up at the blond, snuggling closer as he admires his features. Blond hair. Gorgeous blue eyes. Pretty eyelashes. Kissable lips. Beautiful eyebrows. Perfect face. Tony rests his head on Steve's chest, which is rising and falling in a steady rhythm. He hears Steve inhale, so he lifts his head. "Good morning," says Steve, blinking tiredly.

"Morning," replies Tony. He kisses Steve's jawline. "That was nice, wasn't it?"

Steve chuckles. "Yeah," he says. "It was." He smiles lopsidedly. "So much for my punishment."

Tony rolls his eyes. "Oh, give me a break. You're the one who said that we couldn't do it today." He frowns. "And why is that again?"

Steve rests his hand on Tony's back. "You won't be in a good enough condition after the gala," he says.

Tony grunts. "I'll be fine," he argues. 

Steve laughs. "No you won't." He yawns, sighing deeply. "We should get up."

Tony groans. "FRIDAY, what time is it?" he asks. 

" _It's 10 AM,_ " she responds. That surprises Tony. It's been a while since he's slept this long without waking up. 

"We have time," Tony says pleadingly. "We don't have to get up just yet."

"The gala is at 6 PM," Steve states.

"That's 8 hours from now," says Tony. "It's not like we're in a hurry." Steve smiles, shaking his head. "Fifteen more minutes?" coaxes Tony. 

Steve's giving in, Tony can tell. He exhales, pursing his lips. "Fine," he agrees. "But then we really do have to get up." Steve kisses the top of Tony's head. "I'll wake you up."

Tony furrows his eyebrows. "I'm not gonna fall asleep," he says, but he can feel how heavy his eyelids are. A little more sleep would be nice. He inhales, then exhales, his breaths slow and balanced. He can feel Steve playing with his hair, and he allows himself to close his eyes. 

Just for a few seconds. 

* * *

"Tony, sweetheart," Steve says, waking Tony. Tony blinks a couple of times to get rid of the sleep in his eyes. He yawns. "It's 11 AM – also know as the time for you to wake up."

"11 AM?" Tony glances at Steve. "I asked for 15 minutes," Tony says matter-of-factly.

Steve sighs slowly. "I didn't have the heart to wake you up," says Steve. "You looked so cute."

"Ha-ha," mocks Tony, sitting up and stretching.

"You _did_ ," assures Steve. "And you haven't been getting enough sleep anyway."

"Mm," says Tony. "Can we order food?" he asks as he puts on his pants and a tank top.

Steve frowns. "Breakfast," he says, doing the same – except that he puts on a T-shirt. "Can you find that on delivery services?"

Tony shrugs. "I dunno."

Steve runs his tongue over his lower lip, pensive. "Fine," he says. "But we're getting something healthy."

Tony pouts, but stays quiet. They've come to an agreement. A compromise, you could say, since Steve would've liked to cook for them instead of ordering food.

Tony opens the delivery app, then hands his phone to Steve, telling him to choose whatever. Steve does. For himself, he orders a salad. For Tony, he orders a kids' menu vegan cheeseburger. He places the order, closes the app and hands the phone back to his husband. Tony narrows his eyes at him, suspicious. "What'd you get me?"

Steve stifles a grin. "It's a surprise."

* * *

The delivery guy arrives, rings the bell and places the bag outside the door – corona limitations. Through the peephole, Tony makes sure that the guy has left before opening the door. Tony grabs the bag, looking inside. He sees the burger packed in a box, then lightens up. "A burger? Didn't know that was your definition of healthy, Rogers," he says, arching an eyebrow.

Steve hums from the kitchen, setting two glasses of water on the kitchen island. "Try again." Tony sits on a chair – not the counter, for once –, cross-legged. He grabs the burger box from the bag and opens it. 

"At least it's a cheeseburger," Tony grumbles. He glances at Steve, then unfolds the wrapper. He frowns. "It's small." He blinks. "Is this from a kids' menu or something?" Steve smiles patiently, while Tony glares at him. He takes a bite, chewing. His face falls. "This isn't meat."

Steve grins. "I figured you got enough yesterday." Despite himself, Tony snorts. He covers his mouth, swallowing. "It's a vegan cheeseburger," explains Steve, "from the kids' menu." He pauses. "It might be good," he tries to convince Tony.

Tony nods, disappointed and unconvinced. He takes another bite, then gulps it down, and Steve wonders if he even chewed it at all. "It's not... It's not actually that bad," he says. Steve appears behind Tony, wrapping his arms around Tony. He mutters a 'told you' into Tony's hair. "Shouldn't you eat?" protests Tony, but leans into Steve's touch anyway. 

"Yeah," says Steve. "I just love you a whole lot," he croons.

Tony exhales sharply. "You're so cheesy," he says, glancing at the burger in his hands. "Unlike my burger." Steve laughs, his breath ruffling Tony's hair. Tony grabs the salad box from the bag and shoves it into Steve's hands. "C'mon, at least start eating your food before I finish mine," he says. Steve sits opposite of Tony, taking the lid off the salad box. Inside is a wooden fork and a bag of salad dressing. He takes the fork, then opens the small bag of dressing, pouring it on his salad. He starts eating.

Tony frowns at Steve when the blond puts the fork into his mouth. "Hey–" he peers over the edge of the box, leaning his elbows on the countertop. "Hey, what is that?"

Steve blinks at him. "It's a chicken salad," he replies.

Tony gapes. "Chicken?" Steve nods. "Why did I get vegan if you got chicken?" he interrogates. 

Steve stifles a smile. "Salads are healthier than burgers," he says. Tony glares at him, then grins, fishing a piece of chicken from the salad. He makes a big show of how savory he thinks the chicken is. Steve sighs. "So much for hygiene."

"Suck it up, Cap," says Tony. "Oh, and leave me a piece or two, alright?"

"You know, there really isn't that much chicken in the salad," Steve says.

"Yeah, well, there won't be, not when you've eaten most of it." Steve just shakes his head in response, returning to his task of eating. So does Tony, albeit reluctant. He finishes his so-called breakfast before Steve, wiping his mouth with the serviette that came with the order. He looks contented, considering how much he'd complained about his tiny, non-meat burger. Tony hurries Steve, who has maybe ¼ of his meal left.

"You started eating before me," Steve says when Tony tells him that he's eating too slow. "And the size of your burger isn't exactly grand either."

Tony cocks an eyebrow at Steve. "First of all," he begins, "size doesn't matter. Second of all–" he grins – "you're just jealous you're not as fast as I am." Steve rolls his eyes, giving up.

* * *

After eating, they start going through the binder Pepper had given them. Or, more specifically, Steve does, while Tony lounges on the sofa, fidgeting with a machine and occasionally replying with a 'yes' or a 'no'. "Tony," says Steve. "I need you to focus."

Tony sighs. "Concentration is overrated. And hard." He's Tony Stark. He should be able to focus. His whole work is based on intense focus and determination, but recently, an error has been manifesting itself, keeping Tony's brain from working. He doesn't know what it is, just that it's the worst fucking thing. Completely unnecessary. He knows that aging comes with problems, but this isn't what he'd had in mind. Especially in his late 40s.

Steve briefly closes his eyes, jaw clenching. "Tony."

Tony turns to look at him. "Steve."

"Focus."

Tony shrugs, setting whatever he'd been working on on the coffee table and crossing his arms. "I try."

Steve sighs patiently. "I know you do." He clears his throat. "Okay," he says. "First thing?"

"Greetings; all that shit," Tony answers. "Oh, sorry, bad language word. Right."

Steve ignores him. "Charities you'll be donating to?"

"LGBT+ youth and aid for the homeless," answers Tony automatically.

"Topic of speech?"

Tony frowns. "Um. Christmas joy and, uh, COVID-19 limitations? Stay at home, all that."

Steve nods. "Close enough. Finishing speech?"

"The regular thanks," he guesses – correctly so.

Steve smiles, standing up in order to sit next to Tony. "You did great, honey," he says endearingly. 

Tony hums softly. "I always do." He adjusts his position, shifting so that he's partially resting on Steve's laps.

Steve snickers. "If you say so."

Tony butts his head against Steve's jaw, like a cat begging for attention. Steve trails his fingers down Tony's jawline, his neck, all the way to his collarbone. He plants a kiss just above Tony's arc reactor. Tony treads his fingers through Steve's soft, cropped hair. "I love you," he croons. 

Steve lifts his head enough to plant a tender kiss on Tony's lips. "I love you too, Tony."

* * *

Steve taps his foot against the floor, impatiently, checking his watch every other minute. They have 45 minutes to get to the gala. The trip to the plaza is 15 minutes which, in hindsight, is not that much. However, Tony hasn't even dressed up yet. "What is _taking_ you so long?" Steve questions.

"Beauty!" calls Tony from the bathroom, and Steve has to crane his neck in the direction of the door to hear better over the running of the shower. 

"We're going to be late, Tony." Steve hopes Tony can hear him.

"We'll be fine!" responds Tony. "Just fashionably late!" he says.

Steve groans. "Just hurry up, okay?" Steve waits for an answer, but gets no such thing. Silence is the only thing he gets. After a couple of minutes, Tony emerges from the bathroom, hair wet and unkempt. He's in his underwear, drying his hair. Steve blinks. "... _Clothes_?" he says. 

Tony pouts pensively. "Think I left them somewhere here," he says, letting his gaze wander by every corner of the room. 

Steve rubs his temples. "Closet room?"

Tony stares blankly, as if trying to map the house to remember where exactly he'd put his suit. He raises an eyebrow. "Possibly."

Steve purses his lips, trying his best not to be frustrated. "I'll get it," he says, storming off toward the closet room. Tony always does this. No matter the event, he does everything last minute, less than an hour before he should _be_ at the event. And most of the time, he has no idea where everything is. Including his dignity. When Steve gets to the closet room, the suit is hanging just before his eyes. He sighs, picking it up. He brings it to Tony. 

Tony thanks him, then dresses up. When he's done, he straightens the fabric of the suit jacket. The first two or so buttons of his dress shirt are undone, and needless to say, Steve finds him, incredibly, unfairly attractive. His frustration subsides, and Tony notices that. He smirks. "How's it look?" 

Steve resists the urge to roll his eyes. He offers Tony a half-grin. "Dashing," he says, hands wrapped around Tony's waist. 

Tony goes in for a kiss, but Steve leans away from him. He tsks. "We're in a hurry."

Tony's mouth twists disappointedly. "Surely we still have time for one quick blowjob–" 

"Tony."

Tony fixes his posture. "Fine," he agrees reluctantly. "Afterwards, then." Steve just smiles, amused. He holds the door open for Tony. Tony walks out of the apartment.

* * *

Outside, Happy is waiting for them. They enter the car. "You're late," Happy says simply. "You should've been here about 10 minutes ago."

"We know. Tony–" Steve begins, but Tony raises a finger at him.

"Thanks, Tony. I didn't want to hear it anyway," he says, nose slightly scrunching as he places his hands on the wheel.

"Just go," says Tony. Happy does. They drive to the plaza, which is already full of guests wearing fancy clothes – and masks. They're sitting seats apart, with hand disinfectant beside every row. Fucking corona. Happy parks the car beside the stage. Both Steve and Tony get out of the car, Tony onto the stage and Steve into the front row, along with Pepper, Rhodey, Bruce and some others. 

The audience claps as Tony stands on the stage. He goes through the basic greetings, hoping that everyone will have a great time. "I'm glad you're all here," he says. "It's unfortunate for us to meet under these circumstances, but don't worry, there's still food, drinks and chatter." 

Next up is the charities. "This year," starts Tony, "I will be donating to LGBT+ youth – as a bisexual myself –, because not everyone is as accepted by their loved ones as I am." Tony's never really been open about his sexuality, or at least said the term aloud, and he's met with some prejudiced and distasteful looks. "And if you now have the urge to call me a slur or leave the party, feel free to do so. Just think about what you'd feel like if you were in their shoes, being thrown out of your parents' house just for being your true self." That came out more forceful than Tony had intended it to, but he doesn't care. If there are any homophobes or transphobes among them, they deserve it. The attendees clap – most of them, anyway.

Tony clears his throat. "I will also be donating to organizations providing aid for the homeless," he announces. "The government is telling people to stay at home, but isn't that kind of hard to do when you don't have one?" The crowd stays quiet. "Thought so. People lose their jobs, their families, their finances." Tony raises his voice. "They shouldn't have to lose the country's support as well." Murmurs of agreement sound from the audience. 

After a few more impactful words, Tony wishes everyone a good gala. He gets down from the stage, sitting beside Steve. "Safe distances," says Steve when Tony sits down.

"I live with you." Steve hums. "So," begins Tony, "how'd I do?" he asks.

"Well," replies Steve. 

Tony arches his eyebrows. "'Well'? That's it?"

Steve shakes his head. "No. It's just... I think that was the first time you've openly said you're bisexual."

Tony knits his eyebrows. "I really just came out, huh?" He holds his breath. "Damn," he says under his breath.

Steve cradles Tony's face. "I'm proud of you." Tony leans in to kiss Steve, but a waitress interrupts them.

"Drinks?" she asks, holding a tray of champagne. Tony thanks her, grabbing two champagne glasses, for him and Steve. Tony offers his husband the glass in his left hand, and Steve accepts it. 

"Cheers," proposes Tony, lifting his glass. "To my coming out of the closet."

Steve smiles, and his blue eyes are twinkling with genuine, pure happiness – and pride. "Cheers."

* * *

A waiter walks by them, and Tony calls him to their seats. He reaches for a glass of wine, but Steve swats his hand, smiling at the waiter. The waiter leaves. Tony's shooting daggers at Steve. Steve sighs. "Tony," he says. Tony grunts in acknowledgement. "How much alcohol have you had?"

Tony tunes out of another conversation with a guest. His ears are ringing from the constant shouting and chatter. He turns to Steve. "Not enough, apparently," he says, sipping the last of his red wine. 

"Tony, you're drunk."

Tony barks a laugh. "You haven't seen me when I'm _really_ drunk, big guy."

Steve has. Too often for his taste. "Trust me," he says, "I have. You just don't remember." Tony frowns. "Hey, how about you get up there–" Steve points at the stage – "say goodnight, and then we ditch this place?"

Tony stands up abruptly. Steve sighs, relieved. The relief, however, leaves as quickly as it came when Tony grabs Steve's sleeve and pulls him up. "You're coming with me," Tony slurs. Steve hesitates, not sure what to expect. "Come on." 

Steve follows him to the stage, standing awkwardly as Tony tests the mic. "Test, two, three..." he mutters. His voice echoes around the plaza. The noise quiets down, and the air is filled with anticipation as Tony waits for everyone's attention to be on him. He clears his throat. Everyone's gaze is fixed on him and Steve. "Hi," says Tony simply. "I trust you've had a pleasant night?" he asks, and the crowd cheers, raising their glasses. Tony smiles to himself. Yet another success, although less people are currently present, and Tony is unsure if it was about his whole rant of homophobia or because of the time. 

"Anyway," continues Tony. "I'm going to keep this brief." Steve stares at him, having zero idea what he's up to. "I," begins Tony, "have someone to present to you." He gestures at Steve, and Steve lifts a hand in greeting, smiling – coyly, although he'd aimed for a warm one. "His name is Steve Rogers." The attendees nod. "Most of you know him as Captain America." The audience cheers, while Steve keeps staring at Tony, eyes wide. "I know him as my husband." For the cameras, he shows off his wedding ring. Steve's lips are slightly parted. The people watching clap, and Tony hopes that maybe, just maybe, some confused kid somewhere gets a good example. 

"Good night, America," he finishes, then walks off with Steve, hand in hand. Tony squeezes it, a silent question. _You good?_ Steve squeezes it back. _Yeah,_ he communicates.

Happy is waiting for them behind the stage. Steve had called for him to arrive when Tony had started drinking, aware that he would have to drag his husband back to their house at some point. Steve ushers Tony into the car. Happy glances at the brunet, sighing quietly. The only person more used to seeing Tony drunk than Steve is Happy. When Steve's worked both of their seatbelts on, Happy starts the car, driving the short distance. There's traffic, though, so it takes longer than he'd expected.

Happy drops of them off at the entrance. "Take care of him, will you?" he asks Steve.

"I can damn well take care of myself, you know–" Tony's voice fades as Steve shuts the door, nodding and giving him an apologetic yet grateful smile. 

They enter the building.

* * *

Tony is sitting on Steve's laps, and in all honesty, Steve isn't sure how he'd gotten into this situation. Maybe he was just a bit drunk himself. Tony's straddling him against the sofa. Steve grabs the brunet's hips. "Tony," he warns. 

Tony grins, leaning in to kiss Steve, asking for permission at the seam of Steve's lips. Steve grants it, and it's all tongue, teeth and rasping breaths tinged with alcohol until Steve pulls away. Tony takes a couple of breaths, then leans close to Steve's ear, exhaling. "Talk dirty to me, Steve," he begs. Steve is definitely aroused, but he's not going to do this today. Not when Tony is like this.

Steve bucks his hips slightly upward, teasingly, earning a small gasp from Tony. "You're going to have to brush your teeth before you throw up," he whispers hoarsely. "Oh, and you still haven't washed the laundry," he reminds him. "So dirty," he teases. "Full of sweat."

Tony groans, resting his forehead on Steve's shoulder. Steve pats him on the back, victorious. "Fuck you, Steve," he drawls.

Steve wraps his arms around Tony. "Not today," he says. "Better luck next time." Tony mumbles something, but Steve can't hear him properly. "Go brush your teeth and change, Tones."

Tony stands up, holding onto Steve for balance. "Okay. Okay." He stumbles toward the bathroom, and Steve ponders if it was a good idea to say them in that order. Tony wouldn't like it if his suit had a toothpaste stain on it. 

Steve changes into more comfortable clothes, putting the suit in his wardrobe. Tony is slower. He's in the bathroom for roughly five minutes, even though he supposedly only brushed his teeth. He yawns when he comes back. "'M tired," he admits as he shrugs off his jacket, tossing it to Steve who just barely catches it. He undresses in the middle of the living room, and Steve hastily closes the curtains. After Steve has put the suit on the hanger, he brings Tony's clothes from the bedroom. Tony thanks him, dressing up.

Steve hums. "Let's just go to sleep, yeah?" he suggests, and Tony agrees. Thank God. Tony climbs into bed, his eyelids nearly shut. Steve follows him, tightly wrapping his arms around Tony. "So what was that whole announcement about? At the gala?" 

Tony grunts. "Figured I'd make us public. Known. You deserve it," he says, sighing.

"Mm," says Steve. "You do too."

"Yeah, yeah," mutters Tony.

Steve plants a kiss on the nape of Tony's neck. "Merry Christmas, Tony. I love you."

"Merry Christmas, Cap. Love you too." He's dozing off.

Steve knows that Tony is going to wake up with one hell of a hangover tomorrow, but that isn't today's problem. He'll take care of it tomorrow. Tony drifts off to sleep faster than Steve's seen him in a while, but in all fairness, it doesn't take Steve that longer to fall asleep either. 

Steve's last thought before he gives in to sleep is how Christmas Eve was surprisingly good this year – even though it's 2020.


End file.
